Just In Time
by TypewriterTardis
Summary: "Tessa hissed – actually hissed–at de Quincey, her fangs sliding out. "Get. Back." She snarled the words, her voice–Camilles voice–dangerous and raw." I apologize for the terrible title. It was either that or CACh10 so you have to take what you can get.


**A/N: This is somewhere in the middle of Clockwork Angel Chapter 10. I'm hazy myself as to where, but that's not important. It's after they meet Magnus Bane and before they find Nate.**

**Basically (for those of you who don't remember CACh10): Tessa, disguised as Lady Camille Belcourt, and Will are at de Quincey's house at a party. Will is posing as a Darkling, or human subjugate for Tessa (alias Camille). Trauma ensues.**

**It's only rated T for the minor violence and because I'm a sissy so I wanted to be careful.**

**I wrote this at 1 AM, guys, and it was 12 pages written, so bear with me now...**

**Also I wrote this in August so that's how long it took me to think of a title for it. Don't make fun of me. I suck at titles.**

Tessa's eyes scanned the crowd, searching, searching, searching for the familiar inky black hair and angelic features that clearly marked one William Herondale. But "one William Herondale" did not appear and Tessa was growing increasingly peeved. Her "protector" was obviously not doing his job correctly. Vampires surrounded her, subjugates on their arms, their pale faces and sunken eyes turning to stare at her. Tessa realized that Camille Belcourt was probably very rarely seen looking lost and terrified. Tessa wondered vaguely whether those were expressions that Camille's beautiful and hauty face was capable of making. But the point was the William Herondale was nowhere to be seen. And Tessa was angry.

She had just about reached boiling point when a voice at her left ear murmured, "Camille, my love, you look a bit confused." Tessa nearly jumped, but a soft voice in her head purred, _It's only Magnus, fool._ Tessa rolled her eyes and thought peevishly, _Oh, _there_ you are. Decided to show up again, have we?_

Magnus took her arm and led her to a secluded corner, where he hustled her behind a potted plant, his face and voice suddenly urgent as he gripped her arms. "You need to get Will out of here."

"What?" exclaimed Tessa. "Why? Where is he anyway? I haven't seen him for ages." The Camille inside of her winced. There were not words that Lady Camille Belcourt was used to uttering. _So... déclassé,_ the inner-Camille sighed. _Shut up, you,_ snapped Tessa.

"Where _is_ Will?" she asked again.

"I saw de Quincey marching him away not long ago, he took him to a room off the hall –"

"What?" snapped Tessa. Magnus cringed. "You _let_ de Quincey, a _vampire_ just _take_ him? Why didn't you – stop him? He'll _eat_ him, EAT him. And it will be all – your – fault." With each word, she whacked Magnus around the side of the head.

"I couldn't – do – anything," Magnus gasped, ducking a last smack. "I, a warlock, could not just snatch a subjugate from under the nose of the host."

Tessa glared. "Well, _I_ can. Will is my – my – subjugate. Now which room did de Quincey take him to?" she asked, peering out from behind the plant as Magnus pointed to a room directly across the room.

Her heart racing (well, her proverbial heart raced), Tessa marched (well, as much as Camille – who glided normally – could march) across the room, anger coursing through her veins (well, as much as it could for someone who didn't have blood coursing through their veins). _Being Camille (being a vampire, really) is so un-literary,_ Tessa thought.

Vampires scattered before her as though each one assumed immediately that they had personally offended her and were about to be made to pay for their wrong-doing. Camille's fiery anger parted them easily and Tessa reached the door with inhuman speed (_No pun intended_, Tessa thought sarcastically). She tried the knob and flung the door open to revel a semi-conscious Will on a sofa, a small but profusely bleeding slit in his throat, and de Quincey leaning over him, a golden goblet pressed to Will's throat, a thin, sharp, blood-covered blade clutched in his other hand. He didn't even look up as Tessa stood in the doorway.

Camille's scream scratched in Tessa's throat and Tessa heard it as though through a wall of glass. She saw flashes of Camille's memories – prone figures being sucked dry by de Quincey and his cronies – screaming humans tied to chairs – vampires leaning over the pale subjugates with their dead eyes and gravelly gray skin and their unwavering devotion to their masters – and dead bodies of those who de Quincey had... enjoyed.

Tessa felt sick and felt Camille's vampire instincts and her own rage and fear moving her. She practically flew across the floor, throwing de Quincey off a feebly stirring Will. He slammed into the wall opposite and landed on his feet, surprise masking his features. She hissed – actually hissed – at de Quincey, her fangs sliding out. "Get. Back." She snarled the words, her voice – Camilles voice – dangerous and raw.

De Quincey stared, the goblet of Will's blood clutched in his hand. "Camille, I –"

"He. Is. Mine." Camille's sense of pride and property seemed to be taking over. Tessa would never have thought to use those particular words to objectify Will in such a... vampiric way. "I would _thank_ you to leave _my_ subjugate alone, _Alexei_," Tessa whispered, stressing his name, every shred of her being longing to rip de Quincey to... shreds.

"I apologize, Camille, but I thought maybe just... just a taste," de Quincey was backing away and Tessa realized that she – no, this was strictly Camille – was advancing on him, fangs bared menacingly.

"That," Tessa gestured broadly to the goblet, to the blood on both de Quincey's and Will's shirt-fronts staining Will's bared neck and his shoulder, on his collar-bone, "Was not 'just a taste,' Alexei. And I seem to recall me denying your request for just that earlier, on the grounds that your thirst overcomes you. Obviously, I was correct in denying you 'just a taste,' Alexei. Now please leave us."

It was a gamble.

And it succeeded. De Quincey turned quickly and left the room, turning to say to Tessa, "I hope I have not offended you too horribly, my dear Camille. I pray you will forgive me," and he left, leaving the door open a crack. Tessa hurried to it, searching the crowd again, this time for Magnus Bane.

She found him, lurking by the potted plant behind which they had hidden earlier. She met his blankly worried eyes. He nodded once and began slowly winding his way across the room, detouring to deflect suspicion Tessa assumed.

She closed the door and ran to Will, feeling the Change streaming from her like water from a waterfall.

She fell to her knees – finally hers, not Camille's, though she _was_ wearings Camille's ridiculously puffy dress – and gazed at Will's pale face. His eyes were closed and his cheeks were an ashen gray. The wound at his throat was a thin cut, but it was still gushing blood. Tessa felt sick.

"Will," she whispered, taking his cold hand. "Will, can you hear me? Please Will," she gasped desperately. She felt for his pulse, and finding it, was horrified to feel how weak and slow it was, like the fluttering of a dying bird's wings. "Oh, Will – I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have let you out of my sight – I," she broke off. Will's eyelids fluttered. "Will! Can you hear me?"

He moaned faintly, trying to lift a hand to his throat. Tessa stopped him, gently clasping his hand between hers. "Will, it'll be alright. Magnus will know what to do."

"Tess," he murmured. "I must be dead."

"What? Why?" Tessa spluttered, confused and feeling her face flushed when he said Tess. _At least,_ she tried to convince herself,_ you _can_ flush now. At least that's an improvement on being Camille._

"I've got you holding my hand instead of Camille."

Tessa didn't know what to say.

The door slammed open and Magnus Bane stood in the doorway. He have them one glance before diving inside, the door slamming closed behind him. "Mother of God," he said in hushed tones.

"Is it that bad?" gasped Tessa. "Can't you do _something_, Magnus? Anything?"

"No, it's you, you silly girl. I didn't know you'd changed back. If I hadn't closed the door in time, any number of people would have seen you... well, like this. Not looking remotely like Camille."

"Thank the Angel," muttered Will. "I, for one, am thankful for that."

Magnus ignored this, stepping further into the room. He glanced at Will, whose hand was still clasped in Tessa's.

"Mother of God," he repeated.

"Oh?" asked Tessa, a bit testily. "And what is it now?"

"This time it _is_ the wound," said Magnus worriedly. Seeing Tessa's horrified expression and Will's pained one, he added, "Well, I'm pretty sure I can fix this. I mean, the Darklings can manage _almost_ this much blood-loss pretty well, for humans, I mean."

There was a wee bit too much emphasis on the "almost" for Tessa's liking. She felt Will's hand go limp in hers. Her eyes shot to his face. What little color had been regained was lost. He seemed hardly to be breathing. "Oh God," she gasped. "Will? Will! WILL!" Frantically, she scrabbled for his pulse. It beat weakly under her fingers. "Will," she said firmly. "Please don't die."

"Yes," said Magnus sarcastically, circling the sofa and stopping behind it a Will's head, "Because _that_ works every time."

Tessa ignored him, continuing. "Will, Magnus will save you."

"Oh, I don't know," said Magnus. "I wouldn't be _too_ certain if I were you."

Tessa continued to ignore him and stroked Will's pale cheek gently. "It will be alright, Will."

"As I said, don't be too sure –"

"Shut. Up."

Magnus shut up. And Tessa continued to stroke Will's cheek and hold his hand while Magnus... well, she wasn't sure what he was doing. Some sort of magic.

When he was done, he stood back and sighed. "Well, it's about the best we can hope for at the moment. An iratze would be best, but he's too weak to perform one at the moment. He'll have to wait until you get him back to the Institute for that."

"Can't you do one?" Tessa inquired curiously.

"Oh no. Not me. I am but a mere warlock, my dear. The magic of the iratze is reserved for the Nephilim alone." Magnus laughed bitterly.

"Oh." Tessa wasn't sure what else she could say to that.

"It will be a bit painful when he wakes," Magnus continued, in his usual calm tone. "You'd better wait until he can walk properly before you go out there again. It may take a while. You'd better be the judge of that. I have a feeling that Mr. Herondale here is the suffering-hero type, not the honest-about-the-pain type. Oh, and," he added as an after-though, you ought to tell him he'll have a scar there for the rest of his life. Let him take that as he will. Nephilim seem to take pride in their scars." Magnus walked to the door. "Well," he said. "I'll be outside if you need me. And don't forget to Change back before you leave. It's been a pleasure." He tipped an imaginary hat and squeezed out the door, letting it open only a crack. A blue glow lit the knob and Tessa heard it click locked.

She realized she should have thanked him before he left. Now she seemed ungrateful. She could almost feel Aunt Harriet's horror at her impolite behavior.

Will stirred.

"Will?" she gasped, wide-eyed. His eyes fluttered open. His familiar, yet still strangely startling, blue eyes met hers. He blinked. "How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Like... like a cart-horse stepped on my neck. And someone tried unsuccessfully to cut off my head. And then someone tried, a bit more successfully, to drain me of blood –" he broke off. "So de Quincey took a bit more than a taste, did he?"

"Uh, yes." Tessa felt questions bubbling up inside of her. "How in the world did he get you in here? Did he attack you, catch you off guard?"

"No. I let him," offhandedly.

"You... you what?!" Tessa almost shrieked.

Will winced, a hand went to his throat, probing the scar there.

"You'll have a scar there for the rest of your life, Magnus says," Tessa whispered quietly, trying to gauge the reaction in his eyes.

"Oh goody. Another."

His expression, as usual, was impossible to read.

"Yes alright, but why – in heaven's name – did you _let_ de Quincey 'take at taste'? Why, Will? Why?"

"Well, two reasons. For one thing, he would have gotten angry if I hadn't let him. You already refused him once. I guess he just thought I looked tasty." Will grinned and winced, pain shooting across his eyes. His hand clenched Tessa's tightly. "Alright, now it feels like someone is holding a white hot poker to my throat," he said through clenched teeth, his voice shaking.

Tessa wordlessly stroked his hair.

Will's eyes fluttered closed. He stayed silent for a moment before saying, without opening his eyes, "And the other reason is that if I refused it would have looked fishy. They would have figured something was up. A subjugate refusing a vampire a drink, it just doesn't happen. And then they would drag me off and decide that something was up with you, once they discovered your subjugate was a Shadowhunter. I figured that they would either assume you were a spy or someone was spying on you. Either way, that would make you a liability. They would come after you. Then you would drag you away, kicking and screaming, without me to protect you. They don't treat traitors well here." His eyes opened and they were glazed with pain.

"So," Tessa whispered slowly, "Am I to understand that you almost let a vampire drain you of blood because you didn't want de Quincey to – to do – whatever he does to traitors – to me?"

Will was breathing quickly. "Yes," he gasped out and clenched his teeth.

Unsure of what to do now, Tessa squeezed his hand. "You shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have put yourself in that sort of danger for me."

Will squeezed her hand back and, gathering his strength, he said, "I would have been a terrible protector if I hadn't. And anyway, this turned out fine, didn't it?" He tried to laugh and couldn't.

"Oh yes, fine," Tessa snapped, suddenly angry. "Do you just not care about your own safety, William? Because that's what it seems like to me. You're so willing to put yourself in so much danger and to you it's nothing." She glared at his closed eyes.

Slowly, he opened them. "That's an interesting question, Tess." He blinked at her, considering her. "No, I suppose I don't care about my own safety. Thought that's sort of comes with Shadowhunting." Seeing her angry retort coming, he continued, "Though I do realize that my love for danger exceeds that of Charlotte and Henry and Jem." He fell silent.

"Why is that, Will?"

Quickly, "I have reasons."

"You act so nonchalant, like you don't care about anything. You are happy one minute, angry the next, then full of intensity the next, then deep and thoughtful, then happy again. You pull me in, then push me away just as fast." Tessa fell silent. She hadn't meant to say all that. She looked away.

Will's hand lifted shakily to her cheek. She started at the contact, then stilled, gazing into his pain-filled eyes. And it wasn't just the pain of his healing wound. "Tess."

"Yes?"

"I swear, if I could tell you why, I would. But there's no way I can tell you this. It would only hurt you. No," he said quickly, seeing her open mouth. "No, truly, Tess, you must believe me. It would hurt you in a way you can't even imagine. You just have to trust me when I say that I can't tell you why I have to push you away."

Tessa did something then that Aunt Harriet would certainly have frowned upon. It was something that she had never done before, nor had she ever even considered such a forward act.

She kissed William Herondale. On the lips.

Initially, she was almost as surprised as he was. Almost. He gasped against her lips, trying to pull away. Tessa's hand went to his chest and one of Will's hands slid to her face, the other one resting on her shoulder. He pulled her closer to him, murmuring her name – not Tessa, but Tess – into her lips. He tasted of blood and tears, and of rain. Tessa felt suddenly woozy, confused and uncertain, her senses going wild.

Will gasped and pulled away, sharply. "No," he said forcefully. "Tessa, I can't. I just _can't_."

"Will," Tessa began.

"_Please_. This can't happen."

"Why not?" Tessa flared up. "Why is it, Will, that you do this? You pull me in, then send me sprawling. Do you just like having women hanging on your arm at all times? Do you just like the feeling of breaking someone's heart?"

"No – no, Tessa –" His voice broke. "I have to – to push you away. I have to protect you," he finished weakly.

"From what? And how is breaking my heart 'protecting' me?" Tessa asked quietly.

A look of intense pain flashed in Will's eyes. "You don't understand."

"No. No I don't. And I never will. Not unless you just explain it to me Will."

"No."

"Why not?"

"No."

"Why. Not."

"Because it could get you killed, Tessa! That's why!" Will yelled, anger flaring in his blue eyes. Immediately he turned away, hiding his face in a pillow. Tessa heard his deep breath as he sighed unevenly. Tessa recognized the sigh of someone trying to suppress tears. Hesitantly, she put a hand on Will's shoulder.

"Will?"

There was no answer.

"Will... please..."

Still, nothing.

"Alright Will. For whatever noble reason you refuse to love me properly, I'll just let you be."

Then, finally, he spoke. "It's not that I refuse to love you."

"What?" Tessa was too startled to process this.

"I love you, Tessa. It's that I can't let you love me." And then it all came pouring out, Will's voice trembling as he told her the whole story... How he had opened a Pyxis and released a demon that had cursed him and killed his sister. "And so everyone who loves me will die. Ella was the first. And I've been afraid to let anyone love me. I've forced myself to push everyone away," Will finished, wiping angrily at what looked suspiciously like a tear.

Tessa stared blankly at him. Finally, she reached for him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning down to hug him.

Will swore. "No. No! Tessa! This isn't supposed to happen. You _need _to hate me. You _have _to hate me!"

Tessa could have laughed. But then again, she couldn't. "Will," she said finally, "You have been at the Institute what – five? – years, desperately trying to make everyone hate you."

"I wouldn't say desperately, it sounds so... weak," Will complained in an attempt at humor.

"And you know no one really hates you. Except maybe Jessamine, but she's just Jessie. That's different."

"I'll say. No wait! You're not saying I've completely failed in making them hate me. They can't stand me. They can't wait to get rid of me," bitterly.

"Will, do you really think that? You can't possibly believe that Charlotte and Henry can actually hate you. Or Thomas and Agatha. You may have tried, Will, but you've failed. And no matter how hard you've tried to make me hate, I never could."

Will closed his eyes in misery.

"You can try to find the demon. Ask Magnus! I'm sure he can do _something_."

"I'm sure." There was no emotion in Will's voice as he said it.

"Will, don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't give up hope."

Will's face quite obviously said that he already had. "I left my family, I killed my sister, I'm doomed to live alone and Gabriel was right when he said I wouldn't live past nineteen. It's true, not least because I shall surely go insane and kill myself before then."

"_Will._"

He didn't answer, only raised his gaze to the ceiling. He moaned.

"Will, we've been here for a very long time."

"True."

"And I think de Quincey is mad at me."

"Why?"

"For, uh... probably for snarling and hissing at him and kicking him out of..." Tessa looked around them, "His library. Oh and for yelling at him for trying to eat you."

"You hissed at him?" Will sounded amused. "I thought I was hearing a cat."

"Hmmm. As I was saying, we should move. D'you think you can walk?"

"It's possible."

Tessa lifted Will under his arms, he pushed off from the sofa. Even with momentum, he was very, _very _ heavy. Too much muscle. On his feet, he swayed slightly, but assured her that it came from lying down for so long. He took a step, Tessa's arm around his waist, his arm around her shoulder.

He ended up flat on his face on the carpet.

"What the _hell_ was Magnus messing about with my legs for?" snapped Will angrily, pushing himself off the floor. With the help of Tessa, he finally got to his feet.

It took several tries to get him to the door, but once Tessa had successfully Changed back into Camille, they exited the dark library, leaving behind a blood-stained sofa and a blood-encrusted knife, and entering a vampire filled hall, where a crowd was just beginning to gather at the center of the room.

"Aha, I hope we haven't missed anything important," Will murmured, reaching a hand into his pocket where Tessa knew the Phoshor was.

"Just in time," Magnus said from Tessa's right. Will leaned around from her left.

"Just in time," he agreed.

**A/N: I'll leave the rest up to your imaginations, dear readers, but I will say that what happens next is much like what happens in the book after Tessa discovers Nathaniel is about to be consumed by London's vampires. A similar battle ensues, however I'm sure Will's involvement is slightly lessened by his blood-loss. As their first kiss has been accelerated, I suppose there is no Attic/Holy Water/Kiss scene. And I suppose the entire rest of the series is rather drastically changed... But whatever.**

**Thanks for reading this far, and goodbye! Please review. Reviews make me dance with glee. Just a hint :)**


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